


Once Upon a Dream

by HollyDB



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Challenge Response, Claiming, Claiming Bites, F/M, Happy Ending, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Season/Series 05, Sex, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 12:33:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyDB/pseuds/HollyDB
Summary: Buffy storms to Spike’s crypt following his attempt to remove the chip.[Originally written in 2004 (best guess); revised in 2019]. Response to a challenge issued at The Bloodshedverse





	Once Upon a Dream

It had been six hours. Six hours of brooding in the darkness of his home like some righteous ensouled git who would go nameless. Listening to blessed silence after having booted Harmony for bloody good. He had pounded her into the ground when they got back, then told her to bugger off after she started blathering on about something or the other. He hadn’t been paying attention. Why he’d ever thought he could ever tolerate her incessant nagging, even with the added luxury of sex, was beyond him.

Fuck, who was he kidding? Without Harm, he was left to the comfort of his left hand. And yeah, right now, that didn’t bother him. In about a week or so, though, his anatomy would overpower his better senses and he’d drag her back for more.

A week…or however long it took for the Slayer to show up. That was when he needed Harm the most—after a particularly heated encounter with a certain perky, holier-than-thou Slayer. Helped get his mind off Buffy’s scent and the way her hair bounced when she was in the heat of battle.

And tonight, having been on top of her, having had his mouth near her throat, his erection pressed against her…yeah, he’d needed Harmony tonight.

Tonight he had nearly lost himself.

And it was all her fucking fault. Fucking Slayer. She ruined the best laid of plans.

So bleeding close to getting the chip out. So bleeding close.

He was just waiting now. Sitting in his chair, waiting for the Slayer to burst through the door and give him a good talking to. Because he knew it was coming. Daft twig couldn’t leave well enough alone.

As though in response to his thoughts, a bang shattered the silence of the crypt. Spike sighed and rose to his feet just as the door flew open. And inward stormed the Slayer, her eyes flaring, her hair bouncing, her breasts nice and perky.

Oh yeah. This was what he had been waiting for.

_So bleeding gorgeous when she’s brassed._

He hated those thoughts—how they surfaced so easily when she was near. How he couldn’t seem to stop them. Much like he couldn’t stop the way the situation in his jeans became uncomfortable the second he laid eyes on her.

Bugger all, he was already beginning to regret having sent Harmony packing. Right or wrong, confrontations with the Slayer turned him on like nothing else he’d experienced in his whole miserable life. Had ever since he met her. He remembered quite well growing frustrated with Drusilla’s illness after that first night at the Bronze. Seeing Buffy in her element made him hard enough to cut glass.

Somewhere over the years, that provision had grown exclusive to  _seeing Buffy_ , element or not.

Seeing Buffy just as she was now. Looking pissed and gorgeous and in desperate need of a good tousling.

“Should’ve known it’s you,” Spike drawled, going for bored and unimpressed. “Been nearly six hours.”

Six hours and seven minutes, but it wasn’t like he was counting.

“Well, it would've been less if I wasn't busy cleaning up your mess,” she spat.

He arched his eyebrows. “My mess? I just borrowed the doc. The mess is yours, Slayer. Yours and the boy’s.”

For a moment, he thought she might actually explode with anger. But she didn’t. Instead, she took a step forward and said, “I’m done.”

There was a note in her voice that hadn’t been there before. And he would be lying if he said the stake she withdrew from her back pocket didn’t come as a massive surprise. And now she was coming toward him, eyes set and determined.

_Shit, she’s gonna do it._

“Spike, you’re a killer. And I shoulda done this years ago.”

That was it. Something snapped.

Years ago.  _Years ago,_  when she’d been just a girl. A girl that drove him out of his mind, and only more so as time passed. A girl he had never been able to kill, even when she was under his hands. Even when her body was pressed against his, her throat just inches away from his hungry mouth. Never before had a slayer consumed him the way she did. Invaded his every thought. Driven his blood, hijacked his mind, and dragged him around by the dick. Something about Buffy Summers kept him grounded in Sunnydale. And it wasn’t the promise of her throat. Not anymore.

He was terrified of what it was. What it meant.

Spike met her eyes and clenched his jaw. It was over, one way or another. Things changed from here on out.

“You know what?” he replied. “Do it. Bloody just do it.”

Disbelief flashed across her face. Good. They wouldn’t be anywhere if they stopped surprising each other.

“What?”

“End. My. Torment,” he ground out. “Seeing you, every day, everywhere I go, every time I turn around. Take me out of a world that has you in it.” In a flash of brilliance, he yanked off his shirt and whipped it to the ground. Give her a nice, clear shot of his chest. Make sure she didn’t miss. “Just kill me!”

She just stared at him for a minute, and he could hear her pulse racing. The scent of her flooded his nostrils. God, she drove him crazy.

Then she lunged, stake raised. He winced out of reflex, but held his ground. And suddenly she was there against him, the stake frozen in the air, inches from his heart. But she stopped and studied him like this was some bloody game of chicken.

Or maybe that was her way of saying, “Your move.”

Either way, he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t handle her being so bloody far from him. He couldn’t kill her; he had given that up long ago. Had he actually gotten the chip out tonight, he rather doubted he would’ve been able to go through with it. Even on top of her with his fangs grazing her throat. He had never been more turned on in his life than he had been then. On top of her. His cock cradled in the apex of her legs. He had wanted her so much.

Perhaps the only exception, then, was how much he wanted her now.

And she wasn’t walking away. She was practically daring him to do something.

So he did.

He seized her by the upper arms and yanked her to him. The stake clamored to the ground, and she was against him. And before he could stop himself, he was attacking her mouth with his, pouring his outrage and confused lust and endless need into her. Warring with her tongue, drinking in those little whimpers and moans that she rumbled against his lips. It didn’t even occur to him that, wonder of wonders, Buffy was kissing him back until she ripped herself away from him.

Spike blinked, dazed, his mind spinning and his dead lungs dragging in air. About a thousand things flooded her face—horror, disgust, shock and a bunch of others he didn’t want to consider. Buffy raised a trembling hand to her lips as though needing to reassure herself that they were still attached.

Or maybe she was realizing that she’d enjoyed it as much as he had.

If that was the case, he was a dead man for sure.

But something in her eyes changed after a moment. Her hand dropped and the horror faded. Before he could fathom what he was seeing, Buffy was back against him, grasping his head and pulling his mouth down to hers. A rumble of relief coursed through him and he surrendered, drunk with her in just seconds. Her lips. The needy whimpers that scratched at the back of her throat, the way she held him to her, thrusting herself against his cock with small gasps of pleasure.

As though he could ever wish himself away.

He had his arms around her the next second, determined to keep her there as he drew his mouth from hers and began an exploration of everything Buffy. Every inch of beautiful skin he could find—her cheek, her chin, then he was trailing a wet, hot path of kisses down her throat.

She was panting. She was wet. Her arousal perfumed the air, teasing his tastebuds.

“Spike…” His name on her lips sounded like a prayer. “I want you.”

God, those words. How long had he waited to hear those words?

They were nothing, though, compared to what he said next.

“Buffy, I love you,” he swore into her throat. A tremor ran through her body and he pulled back, finding her eyes glossed over. “God, I love you so much.”

“You…what?”

Wait…what?

Reality snapped back.

“I love…” Spike balked and twisted away, consumed with sudden horror. Her arousal still tickled his nose, still tempted his cock. And her blood. He felt it, heard it—the warm rush of her delicious blood. Only he didn’t want to kill her.

He wanted to love her.

How fucked up was that?

“Bleeding hell.” He shook his head, a growl tumbling through his throat. “Just my sodding luck, right? Of all the bloody people in the world, of all the…why you. The sodding Slayer. I love the sodding Slayer?” He turned his gaze heavenward, snarling. “You enjoy playin’ with me, do you? Think this is funny? Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Is it… Is it so horrible?”

She sounded so lost and wounded, the man inside wanted to go to her automatically. Take her in his arms and apologize for hurting her feelings. But bugger that—he wasn’t quite over the horror of his revelation. The thing he’d known for a while, yeah, but couldn’t quite believe. That the burning of his insides for her was not bloodlust—just lust. Lust that had transformed into love somewhere. Love for the Slayer. For his enemy. God, he loved the Slayer.

“So horrible?” he retorted. “So fucking horrible? Did you hear me, you daft bint? I love you. God, I really love you. Buffy Bleeding Summers, Vampire Slayer. Me, William the Pussy-Whipped Bloody, and I love you. And it’s wrong! I’m a vampire. I’m a vampire, dammit, the real fucking thing. Not a soul-filled ponce who doesn’t know better. In love with the Slayer. Sod all, what the hell is wrong with me?”

A scent that smelled suspiciously like tears tickled the air. Fuck.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

“I…ummm…” Buffy released a deep breath and shivered. “I’ll…I should…leave. You’re obviously going through your…own little thing over there. I’ll leave.”

_Bloody hell._

Cruel twist of fate or not, he was not the kind of bloke to hurt the woman he loved. And god help him, he loved Buffy. He loved her. And if he let her walk out of his crypt like this, he would never forgive himself.

“No.”

Buffy paused. “No?”

Spike turned back to her. “You didn’t hear me at all, did you?”

“Oh, no, there was a fair amount of hearing on my part.”

“You didn’t hear the important thing.” He stormed forward. His objective was clear. He loved Buffy. He would love Buffy. He would love her well. He would love her like he had never loved anyone. He would love her beyond reason. With his heart and body, and he would start right now. “I love you.” He closed his hands around her arms again and hauled her back to him. Felt her heart jump and her pulse race, and  _fuck_  yes, he did love her. “And you want me.”

“H-how do you know?”

“You told me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He flicked his eyebrows. “Oh.”

Then he was kissing her. His mouth was on her, he was drowning in her taste, and she was not fighting him. She was kissing him back. Her arms went around him without struggle and everything in him rejoiced. Oh yes. This was what he wanted. What he had wanted forever. Buffy against him, her lips on his skin, her hips thrusting against his hips. The heady scent of her arousal fogging his senses. Arousal for him and him alone.

“God,” he panted, pulling his mouth away from hers and shoving her against the crypt wall. Her legs were around his waist the next second. “God, Buffy… I’ve wanted this forever.” He wound his left arm around her middle, his other hand busying itself at her white camisole. “You’re so bloody hot.”

“Forever?” Buffy blinked. “You were mad just then.”

Her top sailed across the room the next second, and her supple flesh was under his eager fingers. She wore a white lace bra that he hoped she didn’t fancy too much because he wasn’t sure it’d survive—not with her nails digging into his chest and her hungry lips covering every part of him. Like she was starved, too. Starved for him.

Was it possible they’d both been bloody idiots these last three years?

“Blowin’ steam,” he replied at last. “I’m over it.”

“Over it?”

“Bein’ mad.” He cupped a breast, thumbing her nipple through the thin fabric. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

“You…were pretty…mad.”

He shrugged, dropping his mouth to her throat as his busy hands tugged down her bra. A strap snapped and, feeling that was all but done, he turned his attention to the clasp of her trousers. “Just surprised me, is all,” he replied, then sank his blunt teeth into her shoulder. He tore her left leg free of her slacks before directing his hands to his fly.

How things had gotten so out of control so quickly, he didn’t know.

All he knew was that he needed to be inside her now.

Her hands beat him to the job. Her small, lethal fingers wrapped around his cock and he could have cried. Buffy exploring him, teasing him, pumping up and down the length of his shaft as though they had been doing this for ages. In just a few seconds, any hesitation he’d harbored flew out the window. A throaty gasp tore through his lips, and he dropped his head against her shoulder. A sweet surrender into what he had known for so long.

Buffy was warm and willing. Her hand was around his cock, and she had a look in her eyes as though she had just come awake after a thousand years of darkness.

Yeah. They’d definitely been idiots.

“Fucking hell.”

He fisted the material of her panties and tore the scrap of cloth away from her, then plunged two fingers into her wet heat.

“So hot.”

“Spike—”

“So wet.” He kissed her again as his thumb settled over her clit. The passion that stormed her eyes set his own insides ablaze. “Have you always been this wet for me?”

“Oh god!”

“It’s what you wanted, right?” He pulled his fingers free of her sex with a groan, then positioned the head of his cock against her slit. She was so hot and soaked—if he dusted right now, he wouldn’t regret a blessed thing. “This mornin’. You want this right now.”

“Oh yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I want you,” Buffy whispered. “Do it.”

 _Fuck. Yes._ Spike sank into her with a groan of completion, and found himself swallowed by the warmest homecoming he had ever known. Buffy gasped around him, her walls tightening as her nails found his upper arms and dug trenches into waiting skin. She moaned something unintelligible, squeezing him almost to the point of pain before the shock of his intrusion waned, and she relaxed around him.

He rested at her shoulder a minute, simply enjoying the feel of her around his cock. “Did I hurt you?” he demanded.

“No.” Her eyes met his meaningfully and she clenched around him, wrangling a moan through his lips as he withdrew from her pussy and entered her again. “Did you want to?”

A wry smile tickled the corners of his mouth. “No.”

“Good.”

“I’m past wanting to hurt you, pet.” He cupped her ass and molded her into him, moving inside of her in slow strokes that nearly took them both by surprise. For as much as he wanted her, for as much as the past few minutes had changed his life forever, he would have assumed his claim of her body to have been a hard, fast rutting to leave them both sore in the delicious afterglow.

He didn’t want her sore yet. He wanted her soft and complacent. He wanted her effulgent.

He wanted to take her downstairs and worship her with his tongue. Taste the juices dribbling down his hand and discover if she was as delicious as she smelled. His hips were moving against hers, his eyes glued on her face. And she watched back. Her eyes were on him, and he saw no anger. No hatred. Most importantly, the hurt he had put there with his earlier outburst was gone. Instead, she was Buffy at her best. Buffy watching him with something he hesitated to call affection. Buffy contorting in pleasure as he pumped his cock in and out of her slick cunt.

It was Buffy that locked her arms around his throat and arched her mouth to his.

He was lost. Irrevocably lost. The thought that he could have escaped this was made ridiculous in a matter of easy seconds. She was all around him. Her scent, her softness, her taste. So many months burying himself in denial of this. In attempting to lose himself with faceless women who meant nothing to him while the one he loved was a few city blocks from his crypt. The one he loved who also happened to be the one he was meant to kill, but would never touch again in anger. She was moving with him, her pussy squeezing him, making it hurt sweetly, burning him alive for the feel of her.

It wasn’t possible. God, was it possible?

There were mingled pants between them after their lips parted, his mouth taking chart down her throat again, thrusts gaining speed as the demands of his body kicked in over sensation. “You feel so good,” he murmured into her skin, his other hand slipping over her thigh and skating between them. “So bloody wonderful.”

“Spike—”

“So good.”

“Spike!”

His thumb settled over her clit once more and began caressing her softly to counteract the growing fierceness of his thrusts. She was growing tighter and wetter around him, and he couldn’t take it. He needed to feel her come. Needed to hear his name tearing from that glorious throat of hers in the throes of release.

Now that he had sampled this, there was no way he was giving it back.

“Spike! Oh god.”

“Come for me, baby.” His fangs had emerged when he wasn’t paying attention. His fingers were playing her to climax, his cock stabbing her at a new angle with every plunge. The haven of her body was too much. He was burning from the inside out, and he needed to bathe in her orgasm before he gave into his own. “Buffy—”

“Ohhh…GOD!”

Then his fangs sliced into her milky flesh, and she rocked the world with her explosion. A hoarse scream slashed at her throat and her muscles tightening around him. He felt every shudder that vibrated through her blood. Tasted every wave of pleasure that coursed over her skin. The sounds she made drove him mad, and her rich blood was in his mouth. Her life in his hands. There was no pain, only pleasure. Buffy coming hard around him, screaming her release into the stillness of his home, and he could not help himself.

She was his. She belonged to him. And she was about to know it.

“Mine!” he growled, lapping at her throat as his body gave in and he tumbled off course. Spilling himself inside her, thrusting into her madly, demanding all he could as her muscles constricted around him all over again. “You’re mine, Buffy.”

“Oh god…”

“Say it!”

“Yours,” she agreed weightlessly, collapsing against him. “Oh god, so yours.”

It took a few seconds for him to quiet, still pumping gently into her. His fangs reeled inward and he calmed, head spinning with the reality of what had just happened between them. The reality of what he had just done.

He had just claimed the Slayer. And at his command, she had accepted.

Oh god.

“Oh god.” Buffy slowly untangled her legs from Spike’s waist as he lowered her to the floor, his cock slipping out of her warmth. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nuzzling her hair. He had claimed her. And just like that, a century and a half of emptiness came to an end. Buffy was his. How was it that Buffy was suddenly his?

Fuck, he didn’t care. She was his.

“Spike…”

He froze. “You’re not gonna kick me in the head and run outta here, virtue fluttering, are you?”

She frowned. “No.”

“Oh.” A smile crossed his face. “No regrets?”

“I don’t know what just happened here…” Her hand flew to the fresh bite mark on her throat. “You bit me.”

“Yeah. I did.”

“You did something else, didn’t you?”

A beat. “Yes. I claimed you.”

“You what me?”

“Claimed. And you accepted.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means you’re mine.” He enjoyed the irritation that flushed across her face. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t get huffy. You accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I was accepting!”

“And?” Spike fought back a growl. “You accepted it. You accepted me. You didn’t run outta here when I told you that I love you, you grabbed me when I kissed you, and we just had the shag of a lifetime against my wall. Don’t tell me it didn’t mean anything to you.” Something in his chest wrenched. “Don’t tell me you regret what just happened.”

Her eyes softened. “Spike—”

“Oh bugger this!”

“Spike—”

“You know, Summers, you are some piece of work. Here I am, pourin’ my heart out, and—”

The next thing he knew, Buffy had grabbed his head and tugged his mouth back down to hers. His anger instantly dissolved for the feel of her lips against his, and his arms came around her. God, there was nothing like this. Their mingled scents fragranced the air, Buffy was kissing his lips off as she explored his body, touching like she could possibly want this as much as he did.

“Downstairs,” he growled. “Need you again.”

“Downstairs?”

“There’s a bed downstairs.”

Buffy smiled kittenishly. “You have a bed?”

“What, you think I sleep in a coffin?”

“Well, I know how you relish the stereotype.”

“Bint.”

She scowled. “Asshole.”

A warm chuckle rumbled through him, and he tugged her further into his arms. “Downstairs,” he growled. “Not through with you yet.”

And for the first time since he’d met her, she didn’t argue.

*~*~*

Buffy released a shuddering breath as Spike settled her on the bed. Her mind was still spinning from what had just happened, confused thoughts colliding with logic and what years of conditioning had taught her about love and vampires. She had no idea what to make of what she had just experienced. The passion that had taken her just then was unlike any she had ever felt. The addictive taste of his kisses revived a memory she had buried deep within herself following the fall of Willow’s spell the year before. She remembered feeling like this. Feeling loved in his arms, sitting on his erection in Giles’s house, copping feels and murmuring pornographic filth into each other’s ears.

She had loved him then. For a couple hours, she had loved him.

And now? What happened now?

She had a boyfriend waiting at home. A boyfriend she had dedicated the past twelve hours to saving. She had sobbed over him in the Initiative caves and demanded that he save his life for her sake. And now that the threat was over, she was at Spike’s crypt in Spike’s arms. Spike was stripping her of her remaining clothing, murmuring his awe and approval of her body as he teased her nipples and worshipped her throat. There was something she had denied herself for so many years. Something she hadn’t felt since her sophomore year in high school, only much more potent for reasons she didn’t care to explore.

“You’re tremblin’,” Spike murmured, stripping his jeans down his legs.

“I’m nervous.”

“You weren’t nervous upstairs.”

“Upstairs it was…quick and impulsive and you loved me and I kinda just reacted to that.”

“Still love you.”

“You do?”

He smiled. “It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision to get you in the sack.”

“If it was, it worked.”

“Yeah. Only it wasn’t.”

“I remember you got kinda mad at God.”

“Not mad anymore.” He skated his teeth across the column of her throat and dragged a hand up her inner thigh. “I remember tellin’ you this a couple times already.”

“That could’ve been to get me in the sack.”

“It wasn’t.” He brushed his mouth against hers and slid two fingers deep within her. A shrill gasp clawed at her throat and she fell back against the bed, arching herself into his touch, whimpering. “I don’t say things like that if I don’t mean it.”

“You mean it.”

“This is what I’m sayin’.”

“You love me.”

“I love you.”

“Oh.” Another sharp gasp tore at her throat as his thumb found her clit, his body sliding down hers until his face was nuzzling her pussy. She didn’t need to be looking at him to see his smile. “Oh…oh god.”

“You like that?” he rasped, then lapped at her swollen flesh.

She arched her pelvis into his touch. “It’s okay,” she whimpered.

He chuckled into her, and the vibration felt so good she thought she would break down weeping. “Just okay?” he replied before licking a wet path up her slit. “’Cause I happen to think it’s rather wonderful.”

“Some ego.”

“Well deserved.”

“That’s up for debate.”

Spike arched a brow and delved his tongue into her sodden pussy, and she released a loud, hoarse scream and threw her legs over his shoulders. “No,” he murmured into her, “I don’t think it is.”

“Oh, shit.”

“See?”

“Spike…”

He raised his head, nuzzling before sucking her clit into his mouth. “Such a sweet little cunt.” He lapped at her eagerly, releasing a long moan into her skin. “Fuck, you taste so good. Like fine wine.” He shuddered and glanced up, meeting her eyes. “You understand, right?”

“Fine wine?”

“I love you.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that.” He dipped his head as his tongue sank into her pussy again, nimble fingers stroking her clit. “I want to hear you say that you understand,” he said softly. “Say that you know that I love you, and you’re here because you wanna be.”

Buffy whimpered and thrust herself against him. “Spike…”

“Say it.” He pinched her clit. “Say it, baby.”

She arched again, a small sob of pleasure erupting from her lips. “You love me.”

“Yes I do.” He tongued her, massaging her clit with a bit more intensity. “Tell me where you wanna be.”

“I’m where I wanna be.”

“Really?” Spike arched a brow, nibbling softly at her folds. “Right where you wanna be?”

“Oh yes.”

“With who?”

“Spike.” A long sigh rumbled through her lips and she cupped his face, meeting his eyes. “I’m with you. And you love me.”

He smiled and rose up on all fours, prowling up her body like a sleek jungle cat. She gasped again when his cock brushed against her pussy, and her fingers dug into his skin as he slid inside her.

It was somewhat disconcerting that in the nineteen years of her life, she had never felt anything quite like this. Spike was inside her, over her, his eyes trained on hers, his hands caressing her skin. Cupping her breasts, running his fingers over her abdomen, along her thighs, his eyes fixed on her face. And she knew it. She knew it then. He was moving inside her, reaching places she hadn’t even known existed. There had never been anything like this.

She was making love with Spike. She had come here with the pretense of staking him, and had somehow ended up in his bed. And she was making love with him now. He was whispering his love for her into her ear as he fucked her, while upstairs the thought of being here had been so far placed, even he had balked in horror.

“You think you could love me?” he asked, then tugged at her ear with his teeth. “Just a little?”

There was a tightening in her stomach, pinpricks of pleasure setting her skin afire. Love Spike? She could barely fathom that she was in his bed. That she was with Spike. That his cock was pistoning in and out of her, that he was doting kisses across her skin, and that he loved her. His fangs had slid into her throat and somehow she didn’t care. He had claimed her, and while she didn’t know what that meant, she sensed it was big. Significant. Life-changing.

Something had changed within her and she didn’t know what it was. She was terrified.

But Spike loved her. In her crazy world with a boyfriend she pretended to love, a former vampire lover that she had somehow gotten completely over in the past hour, she was making love with Spike and that was what made sense to her.

“Do you think you could love me?” Spike asked again and sank his blunt teeth into her neck. His thrusts gained momentum. She was lost with every parry. There was an alien sensation building inside; his flesh sliding against her, his mouth dancing over hers, engaging in a playful ballet with her tongue. He had slid a hand between them and was caressing her clit while he coaxed her to a new life with the sinful strokes of his lips. “Buffy… You feel so good.”

She smiled at him, and melted at the look that overwhelmed his eyes. “You, too.”

“Tell me you could love me.”

She nodded as her body pushed toward crescendo. Spike had unlocked something within her. Something large and powerful. Something unbelievable. Something she hadn’t even known existed. In such a short amount of time from being upstairs and listening to his confused screams at realizing his love for her to being underneath him, his tongue worshipping her as his thrusting hips pushed her closer to the edge. The slow slip and slide of his flesh from hers, the smoldering fire between her thighs, his fingers pulling at her nipples, his mouth nibbling at her throat… It was more than she could take. Sensory overload at its richest, and she was plummeting so fast. So fast, and there was nothing there to break the fall.

“Tell me.”

“God, Spike…”

The small fire within her was about to explode with color. Spike was driving into her fiercely now, shoving sensation aside for the need to feel the world collapse around them. Her nails scratched rivers into his skin, and she was about to fall over a cliff and into a brand new universe.

“Tell me.”

Whether or not the words ever truly escaped her lips, she didn’t know. Pleasure consumed her, and she was gone. Lost in a sea of ecstasy. Lost in the rapture of his kisses, his whispered vows, his hands that seemed intent on roaming. His fingers massaged her clit, his mouth swallowed her cries, and he was there to catch her as she crashed back to earth.

God, there had never been a feeling like this. Never.

And then his fangs pierced into her throat, and she spiraled into another euphoric explosion. He was growling his delight into her, drinking her blood, thrusting hard into her, grunting gutturally as he came. The pain of his bite was nearly nonexistent for the shards of pleasure that overwhelmed her, and she clutched him as he came down. Held him as he pulled back from her throat and lapped sweetly at the wound he had given her.

“Mine,” he growled again.

Her body positively hummed. “Yours.”

“Mmmm…” He nuzzled her sweat-laced throat. “That’s the second time you’ve accepted my claim.”

“That’s the second time I’ve not known what a claim is.”

“Means you’re mine.”

A long sigh ran through her body. “I don’t belong to anyone,” she retorted. “Least of all you.”

He pouted, head dipping as his mouth captured her nipple. “Not even a little?”

“Spike…”

The hand that was still between began teasing her clit again. “’Cause I think you’re mine, Buffy,” he replied. “You’ve said so twice. You’re mine. I love you…and you can love me.”

“I said that?”

He grinned.

“Spike, you’re a vampire.”

“Hasn’t stopped you yet.” He brushed a kiss to her breast and met her gaze. “I mean it, love. If we do this, we do it all the way. None of this bollocks about me not havin’ a pulse or you havin’ a calling. You’ve accepted my claim twice now. You’ve let me taste where you live. Furthermore, you wanna be here.”

“I…” Her eyes fell shut. “Spike, I had…I had a plan when I came here, and none of what I planned has happened.”

“You and me both.”

“I’m confused.”

Spike sighed and said again, “You and me both.” He raised his head and brushed a kiss across her lips. “I love you, though. And you said you could love me.” He studied her for a minute longer, then heaved a sigh and turned, pillowing his cheek against her breast. “It’s not like I had this planned, you know. You came in tonight and knocked me off my bloody feet.”

“I did?”

“Didn’t realize I loved you.”

A long, silent beat. She opened her eyes again. “You didn’t? You just…suddenly…wham! Buffy loveage?”

He chuckled and shook his head, dropping a kiss against her breast. “No, love,” he replied softly. “I knew it. I just hadn’t realized it yet. It’s been with me forever, I guess. Dru knew it. It’s why she left.” He squeezed her hand and rolled them to their sides, his cock slipping out of her. “Why she ran off with the Chaos Demon. Said I was  _covered_  in you. Didn’t figure it meant I loved you until I had you in my arms tonight.”

“You’ve had me in your arms before.”

“Was tryin’ to kill you then, and vice versa.”

“I meant the spell.”

He smiled. “Well, I said I loved you then, too, remember?”

“Did you?”

“If I didn’t say it, I bloody well felt it. Maybe it was a given, so sayin’ it wasn’t necessary.” Spike stilled and studied her. “Stay here,” he whispered. “Stay with me tonight.”

“It’s morning.”

“Well, stay with me through the day. You’ve gotta be knackered. Out all night, lookin’ for your soldier.” Buffy could’ve sworn he winced as the words left his mouth, but he hid it quickly and continued. “Wrestlin’ with yours truly, shagging me to bloody oblivion, and comin’ so hard you’ve probably woken the dead.”

She blushed. “I shouldn’t…stay here.”

The arms around her tightened. “Please?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“For once, Buffy, please do what you want, regardless of whether or not you should.”

“And here I thought that was what I’d been doing since I got here.”

A shadow crossed his face. “If you wanna leave, you know where the door is,” he growled.

Buffy wet her lips and shook her head. “I don’t want to leave. I’m confused, yeah, and…well, confused just about covers it. But there’s something else.”

“Somethin’…?”

“Yeah.”

“You could love me.”

“There’s a chance.”

“Good, ’cause I claimed you, and you accepted. Twice.” Spike flashed a pleased smile and opened his arms, welcoming her to snuggle into him. And she did. The prospect of sleeping while wrapped around her enemy had her shaken, but god, she wanted this now. Before reality stepped in. While she was claimed by a vampire she had hated just hours before. A vampire that somehow loved her and had shown her in ways he hadn’t even realized.

The fact that she could love him after hating him so much had her thoroughly shaken, but like Spike, Buffy supposed she was the last to run from her feelings…especially when they were potent. Especially when they were all consuming.

Especially when they were true.

She didn’t know what she felt yet. Only that her body was tired but satisfied, and Spike’s arms were around her.

There was so much waiting for her on the outside. Right now, it didn’t matter.

*~*~*

She stared at him for a long time.

Sometime in the course of their nap, he had rolled onto his back and taken her with him, his arm snug around her middle. His other hand was curled around hers on his abdomen. She had wormed a leg over his, the apex of her thighs pressed against his hip. Her head was pillowed at his shoulder, and she felt more loved than she had in her entire life.

It was slightly disconcerting to wake in the arms of her mortal enemy only to discover that she had never slept so well. Even more disconcerting to realize that the revelations reached just hours before had not been a dream; that she had really spent the day in Spike’s bed. That she really had rekindled her memory of his kisses, and that her body was sated for the first time in years because he had loved her so thoroughly well.

He loved her.

Something had changed, and she didn’t know what. In a matter of minutes from storming into Spike’s crypt and announcing that she was going to stake him to drowning in his kisses and feeling her heart leap at his whispered confession. The leap that plummeted just as quickly when he’d realized what he had said and stormed away in a huff, screaming at the Powers about his epiphany. For making him realize that he loved her. For telling him that he was in love with Buffy.

It was a strange sensation, being so elated but then ripped in two by someone she wasn’t supposed to care about. Someone that she had fought just hours before. Someone whose fangs were now intimately acquainted with her throat, even after what had nearly transpired in the laboratory. He had been there with another woman, trying to get the chip out with the sole purpose of killing her.

How he had gone from that to loving her, she didn’t know. How she had gone from weeping over Riley and begging him to not give up his life because she didn’t need a superhero to lying in the bed of a monster, she didn’t know. Only now her obligation to Riley seemed over. He wasn’t dead. He hadn’t allowed his heart to explode. And she no longer felt…obligated to whatever they’d been. He’d let himself nearly die because he’d known something she hadn’t.

She didn’t love him. If she loved Riley, she wouldn’t be with Spike. She wouldn’t be feeling things with and for Spike that she had never felt before. He was a monster, but he had treated her with more adoration today than any man, even Angel.

There was passion and fire with Spike, something she hadn’t felt since Angel. Something that was more potent now because she was a woman—not a girl—and she understood how she was supposed to feel. Something more intoxicating because she knew on some subconscious level that this had been one of her guarded fantasies ever since she’d seen him at the Bronze so many years ago, challenging her, telling her that she was his for the killing.

Spike was a monster, but he had never truly been the vampire he was rumored to be. Not with her, anyway, and she was to be his greatest conquest. So how was it that she felt more with a vampire that had wanted her dead for so long than any man who had touched her? That from the moment his lips had crashed upon hers upstairs, her good sense had been cast aside?

Willow’s spell had never said anything about loving Spike, but she remembered loving him. She remembered the sensations of having her reservations shoved aside. As though the inner debate had already taken place and she had the answers, no longer caring about the argument surrounding her decisions. And more so, she had known why she’d loved Spike. The same way Xander had known military codes and maneuvers after his brief stint as a soldier. He hadn’t simply been a soldier; he’d known everything about it. And that was the way it had been with her during the Will Be Done spell—she hadn’t simply loved Spike, she had known him, and the feelings that had been unlocked had taken months and Riley to bury. And now she was in Spike’s arms, and he loved her again.

And he wanted to know if she could ever love him.

She was so afraid that she had never stopped. That she had masked her feelings for him after the Will Be Done spell, the things her heart had touched. Had turned herself away from every little revelation that had taken her by storm out of hurt and outrage. She had covered her feelings for him with sarcasm and disgust. And true, the initial horror that had overwhelmed her when the spell was broken had been genuine. Truer yet, she had spent a week growing close to Riley hoping the feelings would go away.

They hadn’t. Spike’s revulsion for her had remained, so she’d kept up appearances. And she had convinced herself that the spell was a spell, and that was all there was to it.

Only she hadn’t convinced herself well enough, for now that excuse no longer applied. She was in Spike’s bed, his arms were around her, his cock was nudging her, and she felt complete for the first time in months.

Spike had claimed her. Twice. And twice she had accepted.

She remembered him whispering in her ear during the spell that he wanted to claim her on their wedding night. Even without knowing what it meant, she had bubbled with delight and agreed. And now, less than a year later, here they were.

Could she love him?

Buffy wet her lips and trailed her eyes down the length of his body and back to his face again. His boyishly peaceful face, the hint of a happy grin tugging at his sleeping lips. Oh yes, she could love him.

In fact, she was pretty sure she already did.

There were things she would have to do beyond the revelation that she and Spike were in love and she had been using Riley to forget what her heart had wanted since last fall. She would have to deal with her friends’ shock and horror, Xander’s supreme wigging, Giles polishing his glasses and possibly lecturing her like she was sixteen. Oh yeah, and break up with her boyfriend right after she had convinced him that she could love him when she, in fact, never had.

That could wait, though. Right now she was with Spike, and she was realizing that there was nothing wrong with that. Whatever happened after today was fine, because he loved her and she loved him. They could face the storm together.

And right now, she wanted him awake so she could tell him.

“Spike…” She tugged her hand away from his and ran her fingers down his chest. “Are you asleep?”

He murmured something unintelligible, but the boyish grin on his face had broadened.

“I think you’re not asleep anymore.”

Spike shifted under her. “You can prove nothing,” he murmured, his eyes remaining shut.

“You’re talking to me.”

“I talk in my sleep all the time.”

“Coherently?”

“I’m multi-talented like that.”

“It’s a shame.”

“That I’m multi-talented?”

“That you’re asleep.”

“Mmmm, really, pet?”

Buffy sat up completely, an involuntary whimper tumbling through her lips. “Uh huh.” She cast the blanket covering them aside, shivering slightly as the cold air hit her skin. But she shoved her discomfort to the back of her mind as she slid down his body until she was face-to-face with his hard cock. She didn’t have too much practice in what she was about to do, but for what he had given her, she was willing to sacrifice her pride.

Though if he made a comment about her inexperience, there was a good chance there would be no more blowjobs in Spike’s future.

“Here’s the part where it’s a shame,” Buffy murmured, wrapping her fingers around his cock. She smiled at the long whimper that spilled through his lips. “Since you’re asleep, you won’t be able to enjoy this.”

His eyes popped open the minute her tongue curled around his belled head, a shrill gasp touching the air. “God, Buffy…”

“Ah, I guess you’re awake after all.” She smiled around him and gave him a long, slow suck. “You know, I think I liked it better when you were asleep.”

Spike frowned. “Gee, Slayer, you sure know how to romance a fella.”

“I just mean, if you’re awake, it makes me nervous.” She lapped at his length, then planted wet kisses along the sides as the hand around the base of his erection began to squeeze. Her other hand dropped to cup his balls, testing the weight of him. “See, now I have to do this right.”

Spike moaned and arched into her touch. “I didn’t know there was a way to do this wrong,” he replied gutturally.

“Well…” A thousand conversations she’d had with Riley surfaced. “Trust me.”

He read her mind. A scowl crossed his face and he sat up on his elbows. “Buffy…”

“In the meantime, though, I’ll be doing this.” She took his cock as deep into her mouth as she could, effectively drowning out whatever remark had been waiting on his tongue and sending him back to the mattress with a long moan.

“Bloody hell,” Spike whimpered, rolling his hips and pushing in deeper still. She let him do that, experiment, enjoying the sensation of his cock sliding along her tongue. Enjoying the view of him, his eyes screwed shut and a look of utter pleasure on his face. “Such a hot little mouth.”

“Mmm…” At last, she drew back, licked at the dip in the head.

“So fuckin’ good.”

She grinned, trailing her tongue along the underside of him until her lips enveloped his head once more. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“Does it sound like I’m pretending?”

“You could be a good actor.”

“Trust me when I tell you I’m not.” Spike gasped and arched into her again, his fingers threading through her hair. His hold on her was not commanding, more like he just needed to touch her. She squeezed his shaft in turn, dropped another kiss over his head, then moved to taste his sac.

“Oh bloody hell.”

“You like that?”

“God, Buffy…”

She toyed with him, sucking on one ball, then the next, her hand working up and down his dick to make up for the absence of her mouth. This she kept up for a few seconds before kissing her way back to his cock to pull him between her lips again.

“You’re so perfect,” Spike groaned. “So hot. So bloody perfect. Fuck me, I have to taste you.”

Buffy arched an eyebrow. “Kinda in the middle of something there.”

His eyes flashed. “Get up here.”

“Don’t you want—”

“Fuck yeah, I want. But I want this…” He hooked his hands under her arms and hauled her up the length of his body until her pussy was hovering above his mouth. “A lot more.” His tongue plunged into her without formalities, and she found herself grasping the headboard as he steadied his fingers on her hips.

“Oh my god.”

He rumbled something unintelligible into her, and the vibration felt so good she had to fight forfeiting control with simply that. He was caressing her from the inside, lapping at her juices with tender strokes, pushing her to new levels.

Riley hated putting his mouth anywhere south of her bellybutton—something about the smell, he’d said. Granted, he did it every now and then to return the favor, but he wasn’t too keen about the favor to begin with. At least not from her. She would have thought it was just a Riley thing, but Parker hadn’t reacted like he overly enjoyed himself when she explored him during their one-night stand, either. And over the past few months, she had reached the conclusion that she just didn’t give a good blowjob.

Her body was trembling, and there was a fire in her belly that only Spike could give her. His tongue was discovering parts of her that she hadn’t even known existed. Her hips began moving over him. His fingers left her thighs to find her clit and pressed down against her when she gasped at his touch.

“Oh my god.”

“Mmm,” he gasped into her, “you taste so good.”

“Oh god.” Then his tongue slipped out of her channel, and she about collapsed in mourning. “Spiiike!”

“Need your clit,” he replied, plunging two fingers into her in absence of his mouth as his lips wrapped around her sensitive button. “Need to taste you as you come.”

His words only made her hotter.

“Oh my god.”

He thrust his fingers into her almost hard enough to hurt, which somehow made it better. Buffy gasped and wiggled, riding his hand as best she could and focusing intently on the sensation of his tongue on her clit. On the  _yummy_ noises he was making, which might have gotten her over the edge on their own. Spike seemed to really like what he was doing and hot damn, she was the luckiest girl in the whole wide world.

“Come for me,” Spike growled into her. “Come for me, Buffy.”

The fire had escaped her insides and was spreading steadily across her skin. A sharp gasp clawed at her throat and she exploded into him. Her body dissolved into tremors of pleasure, and her hips moved against his mouth as he devoured her release. He drank her until she was sure there was nothing left of her, feeling wonderfully sated but raging for more.

“Delicious,” he growled, edging her down his chest until her damp curls were pressed against his cock, his wet mouth level with hers. And he swept her into a fiery kiss that set her skin ablaze, his tongue tangling with hers as his arms came around her. And then he flipped her under him, and plunged himself into her pussy.

Buffy tore her lips from his with a sharp gasp, digging her fingers into his shoulders. “Oh my god!”

He smiled against her lips, kissing her again before resting his brow against hers. “Think I’ve made you lose all mastery of the English language.” A pause. He withdrew just slightly, then thrust into her again. “Not that you had one to begin with.”

“Jerk.”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, burying his face in her throat as his body set a hard but similarly tender tempo. “I love you so much.”

Her heart sang. He had said it again.

“Fuck, it gets better every time.”

Buffy sighed deeply and tugged his head to her shoulder. She felt so close to him, now. Closer than she had felt to anyone. He had his arms were around her as he thrust into her, stroking her to perfection from the inside out. A hand cupped her breast, and he skated his lips down her throat, sighing soft kisses into her skin. The slide of his flesh from hers was unlike anything she had ever felt. Her legs wedged from under him and curled around his waist, her body hot with desperation to recapture him every time he withdrew. It was a soft but hard loving at the same time.

“Jesus,” he gasped, laving a wet path around a nipple, agile fingers caressing her neglected breast. His thrusts came harder, faster. The bed springs whined and the headboard assumed a harsh beat against the wall, and every time he filled her, she tightened her muscles around him as though she could keep him there forever. “You’re so gorgeous.”

“Uhhh…”

“You feel so bloody good.”

“Yes, yes,” she gasped in agreement, tugging his mouth to hers once more. “So good.”

“So hot. So bloody warm.”

“Spike…”

He smiled against her, the shine in his eyes a stark counterpoint to how hard he was fucking her now. “Love you, baby,” he murmured against her lips. “Feel like heaven. You burn me up. So tight. So hot. So fucking perfect.” He dragged a hand between them and took her mouth in a fierce, desperate kiss. The room was quiet except for the whine of the mattress, the mutual whimpers tumbling through their lips, and the slap of flesh against flesh. It was somehow more intimate, more real, than anything she had ever experienced.

Spike pressed his finger down upon her clit, his eyes blazing yellow. “I love you,” he gasped. “I love you so much.”

“Yes, yes!”

“You’re so close, kitten. I can taste it.”

Her eyes flew open and found his demon gaze burning her through. And she knew then. She knew. She could feel it scorching through her body. She loved him. She loved him, and she needed him to know it. “Uhhh…Spike…bite me.”

“Buffy—”

She closed her arms around his neck and jerked his fangs to the pulse point of her throat.

“Bloody hell,” he growled before he began nibbling on her flesh.

“Do it!”

He reeled his head back, a sneer tickling his mouth. “You first.”

Her eyes widened, but she refused to run from a challenge. Especially a challenge as important as this one. The next instant, she lunged forward and sank her blunt teeth into his throat. Biting into him hard enough to taste liquid copper as it flooded her mouth. She had drawn blood. They were even now.

“Oh fuck!” Spike gasped, bucking into her like mad.

“Mine.”

“FUCK!” He jerked his throat away from her teeth in horror, searching her eyes. It took only a second for him to find what he needed, and his gaze widened with hope. “Yours,” he replied, his mouth lowering to her jugular.

And then his fangs slid into her skin, and her body ignited into the most intense orgasm she had ever known. His name tore through her lips, color blinding her as her blood rejoiced. The tremors clamoring her insides found home, and she took everything he had to give her. Triggering his orgasm as the words possession floated around her, and she accepted them again. Accepted his claim as he had accepted hers, falling back to earth but not quite touching the ground. He had introduced her to a place of elevated paradise.

At last his hips stilled against her, and they collapsed onto the bed once more. Spike purring against her, nuzzling her sweat-laced hair. “My god,” he gasped. “That was…”

“Yeah,” she agreed hoarsely.

“You understand what you did?”

“I claimed you.”

“Yeah…” He buried his face in her throat and licked at the proud bite he had given her. “But you…you said you didn’t know what it meant.”

“I don’t.”

“But you did it.”

“I did. Seemed like the thing to do.”

“Buffy—”

“I love you.” She smiled when his eyes widened in shock. His cock hardened within her with a vengeance, and in seconds, he was moving inside her once more.

“You what?” he gasped.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his throat. “I love you.”

“You said there was just a chance.”

“Well, that chance has taken a massive leap forward and I love you.”

“Since when?”

“Honestly?”

He nodded, lowering his head to her throat. “Honestly.”

“I think since last year…and Willow’s spell.” Her smile widened when his eyes shot upward, his thrusts intensifying. “I’m just…good at…repressing.”

“Oh Buffy…” His thumb settled over her clit once more. “I love you so much.”

“Love you.”

It was a quick rise and fall, but no less divine because of that. They fell together in euphoric bliss, muffling their cries of ecstasy in the sweet union of their lips. Spike collapsed against her with a sigh of completion, burying his face in the crook of her throat and kissing his claim mark tenderly.

“This is forever,” he murmured against her gently. “We’ve claimed each other now. You’re mine.”

“You’re going to have to explain this claim thing to me.”

“Oh, I will.” He kissed her lips. “Just as soon as you send the soldier packin’.”

“Hey, you have to get rid of Harmony.”

A cynical chuckle rumbled through his throat. “Already done,” he told her. “I told her to bugger off long before you showed up.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Spike shrugged. “Well, other than the fact that a rock would get higher marks than she could even count in school, I don’t fancy cheap substitutes for what I really want.”

“That’s me, right?”

He nodded, brushing his lips over hers again. “Yeah, sweetheart. That’s you.”

Buffy grinned happily. “So, this is what we’re doing now. No more fighting.”

“Well, I wager you’re gonna piss me off at some point.”

“Uh huh. And you’re an example of perfect behavior.”

“Glad you agree.” Spike chuckled again at the look that flashed across her face. “No, it’s not gonna be perfect, baby. It’s just gonna be real. I love you.”

A long sigh sailed through her lips. “I love you.”

“And you’re gettin’ rid of the enormous Boy Scout.”

“Well, I think telling him that I’m in love with someone else, he might just leave all on his own.”

“He’s gonna be crushed, isn’t he?”

She smiled sadly. “Yeah.”

“Can I watch?”

“Spike—”

He scowled. “Hey. The overbearin’ hall monitor’s been nothin’ but a spiteful ponce since he snuck his way into your bed. That place you just admitted should’ve been mine since last year.”

“I know. But that’s not his fault.”

“That he’s been a spiteful ponce?”

“No, that…” She shook her head. “I never should’ve gotten involved with him.”

“We agree on that much.”

“That much isn’t his fault.”

“Well…” Spike frowned. “Don’t focus on that part. Focus on the spiteful ponce part, and come back here when it’s over.”

“Oh, you can bet I’ll be doing that.”

He smiled gently and rolled them over. “Have I mentioned how glad I am that you decided to come over and kill me today?” he asked.

“No.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me, too.” She snuggled into him, dropping a kiss on his chest. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, kitten.”

“And we’re mated now.”

Spike grinned. “That we are.”

There were things they both needed to face. The world outside the crypt waited with friends who would not understand, a boyfriend to dump, and the next apocalypse somewhere down the road. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered right now. Spike’s arms were around her, and there was nothing else. Nothing but this.

Today belonged to them. Tomorrow the world would return.

And whatever came next, they would face together.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Challenge Guidelines** (Keep in mind, these guidelines are at least 15 years old; the original challenge might still be up there, IDK)
> 
> Challenge: 122 at Bloodshedverse
> 
> I couldn't have been the only who was holding my breath, hoping and praying that the end of "Out of My Mind" wasn't really a dream. Not that I didn't enjoy Buffy and Spike's tumultuous affair in season six, but I think it would have been better if they had given into their mutual UST during season five instead. That's why I want someone to write a fic where OOMM turned out to be real. You can write it as a standalone, but I would prefer if you would tell about the aftermath too. 
> 
> Please don't woobify Spike or portray Buffy as a cold unfeeling bitch without reason. All I ask is that you just make their character voices ring true.


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